Rose Red
by Chucky2889
Summary: When Dr. Joyce Reardon takes a group of six psychics into the famed 'Rose Red', they awaken a force that will not stop until the house has full control. A modern interpretation of the 2002 miniseries written by Stephen King. Don't like, Don't read; it's as simple as that.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The young girl sat in her overly decorated room. Her light brown hair was cut into an even bob, the length was just above her shoulders. Her attire was made up a light yellow, almost cream colored T shirt, and light denim overalls. She sat on the knees, hovering over a crudely drawn picture of a yellow house. Across from her sat a red haired rag doll. She would constantly look over at it, as if asking for approval. Outside her room, an argument began. She looked up at the door, and then looked over at the light pink record player. She watched as the plastic arm reached over the black vinyl record and fell into place. The record player turned on, and the light sound of Percy Faith's "A Summer Place" began to full the room.

Her drawing became more erratic, using brown and black crayons drawing round objects on different parts of the house. The music became louder, and so did the argument. The girl began humming the sweet tune. The music got louder, drowning out the argument, which quickly turned to banging on the door.

"Annie!" A masculine voice called.

"Annie, please!" A softer, feminine voice yelled.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and her father and sister came into the room. Annie's father turned off the record, and Annie sat back and picked the rag doll.

"Look Sister, I have baby," Annie said, holding up the doll.

"Dad, look," Sister said as she pointed to her little sister's drawing.

Her father bent down and picked up the crude drawing. He examined it before holding it up to show Sister, and his wife, who peeked in from the hallway. Annie stood up and walked over to the open window across the room and watched as fire trucks and an ambulance raced past.

 _The Seattle Sun_

 _January 27_ _th_ _, 2001_

 _ **Rocks fall on elderly couple's home**_

 _The Whitaker home on Chamberlain Drive was destroyed yesterday, apparently after boulders fell from the sky. According to neighbors, the rocks fell shortly after 2 pm, and then stopping no more than five minutes later. The homeowners, 67 year old Harold Whitaker, and his wife, 65 year old Janice Whitaker were found alive, cowering in the basement of their home when the rocks fell._

 _Local authorities have no answer as to why rocks would fall from the sky. We tried reaching out to Sheriff King, but no we received no response on the matter._

 _We reached out to Professor Takanashi at Beaumont University, who is the leading Forensic Meteorologist in the country, and asked what could cause such damage._

" _We have yet to test the rocks to see if they came from space, but the samples we did receive seem to be earth-bound," Dr. Takanashi told us._

" _If they are indeed space rocks, then our next question will be why they fell in this one area, and not everywhere else."_

 _The Whitakers have been relocated to their daughter's home while local authorities investigate._

Rachael sat at the table across from her father. He was a large man of 45, and often ran out of patience when dealing with his daughter; and this was no exception.

"Why did you take her near that house, Rach?" Dan asked his daughter.

"It was a shorter walk, I didn't know the dog was going to bite her," Rachael replied.

Dan furrowed his brows. "You know where to walk. You know Annie gets frightened easily. It was totally irresponsible of you."

Rachael looked down at her hands. "Do you think it was Annie that destroyed that house?"

"Let's not talk about it, Sister."

Annie sat on the floor in the living, playing with the rag doll. She was humming "A Summer Place".


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The lecture hall was full of students. Dr. Joyce Reardon stood at the front of the class. She was a determined woman of 37, with long curly hair that was put back in a ponytail. She wore a navy blue suit, and a light blue seater underneath. Her green eyes were sharp, and bright. She had the stature of power.

"Now, the study of the paranormal has been under scientific scrutiny since its creation," She started. "And before we leave, I want to leave you with a few thoughts; the study of psychic phenomena is an honorable one, and that everything is not what it seems. Just because it may not seems logical, doesn't mean it's out there."

A dark haired teen stood up from the audience. "Hi, Kevin Bollinger with The Beaumont Press."

"Hello Mr. Bollinger."

"Is it true you are leading an expedition into Rose Red? And how exactly are you paying for this?" Kevin asked, a slimy smile formed on his face.

"I assume that Dr. Miller is the one who sent you, and I'm sure he informed you that I have funded this expedition with my own savings," Joyce said, walking over to her desk and sitting on it. "If he sent you here to embarrass me, you have failed; but if you want to hear all about our little adventure, come back next spring."

Joyce smiled at him as he looked at her in defeat. He slowly walked to the back of the room.

"Good bye, Mr. Bollinger," Joyce waved as the boy exited the room.

A few students laughed as the door shut.

Joyce walked up to her office. Behind her, Dr. Miller ran up.

"Hello, Carl," Joyce said, unlocking the door.

"The department heads and I have had enough of your shenanigans," Dr. Miller said, leaning on the door frame.

He was a man of 58. His short, gray hair was combed back to hide the bald spot on the back of his head. His thick-rimmed glasses lined his small, blue eyes.

"And what 'shenanigans' are you speaking of, Carl?" Joyce said, turning to face the man.

"Your little 'spook-hunt', Joyce. You are single handedly making a fool of yourself, and the entire psychology department!" Dr. Miller said, his tone angry.

"My little spook-hunt, as you like to call it, is going to prove what I have been working for all my life," Joyce said, opening the door. "And if you are out to embarrass me, then so be it, but it takes a lot to embarrass me you sad, little man," Joyce said, closing the door in his face.

She sat in the brown, leather rolling chair. She looked at the stack of files on the desk in front of her. She began looking at them, inspecting them. She put most of them to left of her, until she got to a folder marked "Pam". She opened it.

 **PAM**

Pam Asbury sat in the coffee shop sipping her 99 cent coffee. Her luck had been down in the dumps as of late. She was let go of her last job, and had applied to three more, but heard nothing back and it had been almost two weeks. She tucked a piece of her kinky hair behind her ear.

She was what some psychics called a "touch now". She could touch something and see who owned before, and sometimes see what happened to that person. It was both a blessing and a curse, but she was stuck with it. She laid her hand down on the resin-covered table.

 _A couple, a boy and a girl, the girl is crying. They must've gone through a separation, otherwise why would the girl be crying? There are people staring. The boy gets up, and leaves her. The girl calls out for him but he exits the shop._

She snaps out of it, and checks her watch. She picks up her empty cup and walks out the door after tossing it in the bin. She was wearing a purple sweater that came up to her knees. It was getting colder outside, which wasn't odd for Seattle at this time of year. Winter was her favorite season because she could wear things like she did today. Although her clothes were second hand, she enjoyed them.

The bus pulled up, and this pulled Pam out of her day dream.

"Another unsuccessful interview?" The bearded bus driver said to her.

"You know it," Pam said, putting her coins in the deposit.

She sat in her usual midsection seat. Pam enjoyed watching the buildings pass by. She touched the rail at the front of her seat.

 _Two men sat in the seats. They were secretly holding hands under one of the men's jacket. It was raining outside, maybe around May. They were both nervous. There was a plan. One would get off first, then they'd meet up after._

Her phone began vibrating in her pocket. She didn't recognize the number, but she thought maybe it was one of the jobs she'd applied too.

"Hello, Pam Asbury speaking."

"Hello Ms. Asbury, this is Professor Reardon from Beaumont University," Joyce said on the phone.

"Please, call me Pam," Pam responded.

"Alright, Pam. I was reading your file you submitted to the university, and was just doing a follow up."

"Yes ma'am," Pam said, shuffling in her seat.

"Well your abilities are outstanding, and we could definitely use them on our expedition to Rose Red. If you would like to join us, there's a spot open for you."

"I-I would love too! But I do have one question," Pam said, tightening the grip on the bar.

"What is it?"

"What's in it for me?" Pam asked.

"$5,000 at the end of the trip."

Pam smiled. This was it.

"I'll do it! You can count on me!" She said excitedly.

"Great, there's going to be an orientation in 2 days. We'd love to see you there."

"I'll be there!" Pam said.

"See you there, have a great day."

Pam hung up the phone. Her mood seemed to lighten, she was happier than she had been in a while. This was her chance.

Joyce hung up the phone. She moved Pam's file over to the small stack of two others. The names on the files were NICK and CATHY. She kept looking at the stack. Passing on Cora the Great, Donovan Caribbean, and stopped once she reached a file called EMERY W. She opened it.

 **EMERY**

Emery sat at the small kitchen table. There were at least a dozen bills spread out before him. He looked at them in disbelief. Could his mother really be that much of a huge shopper? He knew it was, but he would never say that to a domineering woman like her. Suddenly, the phone rang.

"Waterman residence," Emery said in an unimpressive tone.

"Hello, Emery? This is Joyce Reardon at Beaumont University."

"Ms. Reardon," Emery said holding the phone in one hand.

"I know I called the other day, and I just wanted to make sure you didn't want to change your mind."

Emery looked down at the bills again. "If you can make it $7,500, then you've got a deal."

"Mr. Waterman, I am funding this project from my own pocket, $5,000 is all I can afford."

"So, $5,000 is your final offer?" Emery asked.

"Yes, now are you in or out?"

He looked at the stack again. "I'm in."

"Great, there will be an orientation in 2 days, can I assure you'll be there?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

Emery hung up the phone. He got up and walked to the cream colored fridge, and opened it. He looked at it, it was red and flesh was hanging from the racks and out of the freezer. He stumbled back.

"Not there. Not there. Not there."

He opened his eyes, and the fridge was back to normal. He walked back up to it and took out a pie and whipped cream.

"Emers, please go out and get the rest of the bags out of my car," Mrs. Waterman said, coming in with shopping bags in both arms.

"Mom, I was just looking over the bills, and some of them are past due."

"Cashman's was having a closing sale, the whole store 25% off!" She said, picking up a stuffed bear out of the bag.

"Mom, you've gotta be careful with the credit cards."

"I am very careful with the cards, I am a very smart shopper. Now, go get the rest of my bags," She said as Emery walked out of the room.

Joyce hung up the phone and placed Emery's file with the rest of the group's files. She smiled to herself. Her group was coming together. She looked at one file, it was a different color than the others. It was marked ANNIE.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Nick Hardaway laid sideways on the king size bed. He was dressed in only a loos pair of blue boxer shorts. He was a tall man of 29, and his short blond hair was messy. His blue eyes were focused on a half full, looking at the clear liquid inside. He could see a withered statue looking straight back at him. The brown vines around the small cherub's face framed, but made the small concrete angel seem more menacing than it should have been. A younger man jumped on the bed behind him, disconnecting whatever psychic link Nick had made.

"You've ruined it," Nick said to the shirtless brunette behind him.

"What do you mean," The younger man asked while taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Nothing, darling," Nick said, his English accent was suave.

The younger man passed Nick the cigarette. He sat up next to the other.

"Danny, have any phone calls come in for me?" Nick asked, passing the cigarette back.

"No, where you expecting any?"

Nick looked at Danny and smiled. "Just asking."

Nick had only been in the states for a few years, and in that time, had been in and out of jobs. He met Danny by chance. Nick was working at a restaurant as a bus boy. Danny had come in with his then boyfriend. Their affair started shortly after. There was always a thought in the back of Nick's mind that maybe Danny would cheat on him like they did after they met. Did he feel bad about it? Maybe, but there wasn't anything he could have done about it now.

They had been together ever since, and Nick was happy. Even if he worked odd jobs, and never truly made that much money, Danny was always there for him. Although Danny was much younger than Nick (Nick being almost 7 years Danny's senior), Danny was very mature for a 23 year old. They could have very intelligent conversations about the goings on in the world. Nick loved talking about politics, and he and Danny could go on for hours about it.

"Nick, are you okay?" Danny asked him, shaking him.

Nick looked at his lover confused. "Why?"

"You just, like, stared off into space for a minute," Danny said, looking at Nick. "Did you see something?"

"There's something calling to me. I can feel it," He said, staring out of the partly opened window.

Nick walked down the run-down hallway of the apartment building in which he and Danny lived. He needed to go for a walk, clear his head. There were so much mixed messages coming into his head, so much so that Danny wouldn't even able to grasp. He knew something was coming, but what it could be escaped him. He put his hands in his old leather jacket. At one point, it was black, but now it had turned a mixture of black and brown. It was old, but it had good memories, and frankly he couldn't afford another one.

He stopped in his tracks, he could see it. Down by the highway, the old mansion stood. It had some sort of aura, but from this distance, he couldn't feel what aura it was. He felt as if it was looking at him. He scoffed at the idea, but from his experience, it wouldn't be too far off. He walked back home.

Nick went in to his job at 6:30 in the morning. Danny was still asleep when he left. He hated having to leave him that early and having to come home pretty late at night. Danny knew that he couldn't help it, and he had his own job anyway; but working 7 days a week almost every hour throughout the day, he really missed Danny. Times were hard, but they always made it through.

It was about 2:30 now, and Nick was stuck mopping the back room. His employers treated everyone like shit, but he got the brunt of it. Not only was he not American, but he was also gay. Not that his boss was homophobic, but he thought it wasn't manly. Although Nick towered over him, Nick wouldn't hurt a fly let alone his boss. He knew that if he just endured whatever they put him through, he'd get a paycheck.

"Hey ya, Nicky boy," The short man said to him. The man was wearing a rather abhorrent shade of green, and khaki pants.

"Hello, Mr. Gates. How are you today?" Nick said, not looking up from his work.

"Good, good. Hey, do you think you could clean to men's bathroom once you're done in here?" Mr. Gates asked him.

"Sure," Nick said.

"Thanks, big guy."

Mr. Gates walked away. Nick took out his phone, and waited. He knew a call was coming in, but he just didn't know when it was coming. Just then, it rang.

"Hello," Nick said.

"Mr. Hardaway, it's Joyce Reardon from Beaumont University-," Joyce said.

"You are calling about Rose Red, aren't you?" Nick asked.

"Why, yes."

"And you are wondering if I want to go on your little field trip aren't you?" Nick asked.

"Yes, I am."

"If you want to know, I am interested," Nick said looking around him.

"Good, can I have your confirmation on that?" Joyce asked.

"What's in it for me besides exploring a century old mansion?"

"$5,000; how does that sound?" Joyce asked.

"I guess I have no other choice, I'll go."

"Great, there's going to be an orientation at the college in 2 days, can I account on you being there?" Joyce said.

"You can."

Nick hung up the phone. He quickly put it away, and looked away to see if anyone had seen him. There was no one.

Cathy sat in her modest out fit in the pews of the overtly decorated cathedral. If one had to describe her, they would say she was a real church mouse. She wore a skirt that went all the way to her ankles, in a muted purple color. Her white shirt was buttoned up all the way to her neck, and she wore a muted green cardigan atop. She sat and prayed with her black Mary-janes touching at the toes.

She never married, and for a woman at the age of 56, her biological clock had already clicked away years ago. She was married to her faith, which was the most important thing in her life. She attended church almost every day, volunteered at events, hosted bible readings in her home. Again, a real church mouse.

She prayed for many things, like world peace, world hunger to be resolved, and mostly that the sinners find their way to God. She never wished any harm on anyone, even if she didn't agree with how they lived their life, she mostly just kept her mouth shut. It was 2016 for God's sake. In all her 56 years of living, there was never a hateful bone in her body.

"Ms. Kramer, how are you today?" The overly dressed priest asked her. He was a shorter man, and was balding. Cathy felt bad vibes from him.

"Good, Father. How are you?"

"I'm good today, Ms. Kramer. Say, were you going to volunteer this weekend at the choir rehearsal, we'd really love you there," He asked her.

She didn't want to go, and she didn't want to be alone with this man. "No, Father, I can't. I have some appointments that day." She lied, of course.

"Oh that's too bad," He said, walking away.

Cathy waited until the man left the room when she went for the door. She didn't trust him, and there had been rumors about him. Unspeakable things to do a child, especially in his position. She walked down the street to the bus stop, constantly looking back to see if she was being followed. She wasn't, of course, but that didn't stop her from feeling that she was. She never learned to drive, and never really had an interest in doing so. She was more interested in sticking to 'traditional' gender roles. She never worked, and the money she had from her parents' will has been run dry. She wasn't that desperate for cash, and she prayed that something, anything would come up.

Cathy sat at her old wooden table. Her apartment was small, but cozy. She sat looking down at a Bible, reading it for what would probably be the thousandth time. She was in the zone, reading Psalms 105; 1. She liked that verse, and she felt it resonated with her. Just then, her landline rang.

"Hello," Cathy said, holding the phone close.

"Hello Mrs. Kramer. It's Joyce Reardon from Beaumont University."

"Just call me Cathy, Ms. Reardon," She said shakenly.

"I was looking over the application you sent in, and was wondering if you would to come with us to-"

"Rose Red," Cathy said.

"Yes, there's $5,000 in it for you if you come with us."

"I'm an automatic writer, Ms. Reardon, I'm not sure what I can offer the group," She said, wrapping her finger around the phone cord.

"You have a marvelous power, Cathy, and it'd be an honor to have you along."

Cathy took a deep breath. "Sure, I'll go."

"Great, there's an orientation at the University in two days, I can't wait to see you there."

Cathy said goodbye, and hung up the phone. She closed her bible and took a deep breath. She was going to Rose Red.


End file.
